


Something Less than Trust But More than Lies

by AliceInKinkland



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Comics)
Genre: F/F, Magic, Non-Human Genitalia, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Season/Series 08, Self-Discovery, because that is apparently an ao3 tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 21:04:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4320654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceInKinkland/pseuds/AliceInKinkland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first few times they entangle their bodies, Willow asks her afterwards, frantically, whether her eyes are black.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Less than Trust But More than Lies

**Author's Note:**

> My feelings on comics canon can politely be called mixed, but one thing I wholeheartedly support is Willow gettin it on with a sexy trickster snake goddess. I am really into it. And I am shocked that there's hardly any fic for this pairing, because did I mention SEXY SNAKE GODDESS? (I do feel kind of bad for Kennedy, though, stuck back in our regular dimension dutifully not flirting with all those hot slayers while the events depicted below are occurring, which I hope comes across here).

The first few times they entangle their bodies—smooth skin against rough scales, wetness of sweat and river water and lush desire—Willow asks her afterwards, frantically, whether her eyes are black. It tastes like that flavour of abandon, being touched by this trickster goddess; their bodies generate a kind of mystical friction that feels more dangerous than anything she has known in bed before. Perhaps this is part of her quest, but she has to ask—does she look any different?

Aluwyn tells her no, every time. That calms Willow at first, but soon she begins to worry the goddess is tricking her, which, hello, totally possible. She starts to feel like it isn’t even the right question, but she can’t think of a better one to replace it with. She just can’t shake the feeling that everything they do together means something, even as a lot of what they do becomes lips on nipples, fingers and tongues and that _tail_ in soft wet places.

She is working so hard not to be too vulnerable around this creature who might make her or shatter her completely. (With every orgasm shattering seems more and more the likely outcome). She has more of herself to hide than usual, hide from fingers that seem to want to rip secrets from her cunt like a pearl diver, and Willow is worried some deep-buried black-haired other-Willow will slip through the crack of her parted lips as she moans.

The fourth day (if she’s counting correctly; time is not quite the same here as it is back home), Willow decides she is done with questions. She will start with answers, and work backwards from there. Cosmic Jeopardy.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m more than one person,” says Willow. It’s not quite an answer, but it’s not a question either. “There’s just too much, it’s too different, and I just can’t fit all the pieces together.” Willow keeps trying to speak in old-book words in this place, ancient incantation words, but it never lasts for long. It’s just not her style.

“Self-perception is not one of your strengths,” says Aluwyn. She undoes Willow’s corset, and slides both of Willow’s tops up and over her head. Willow’s insistence—after her initial dramatic water-based entrance—on wearing clothes when they’re not having sex, Willow knows, is something Aluwyn views with a mixture of disapproval and—Willow thinks wants hopes—affection.

“Wait—really? OK, back up,” says Willow. She’s already breaking her own no-question rule. Maybe that wasn’t a good tactic anyway. “What about how I spent a whole summer being all meditatey, getting in touch with myself, so I wouldn’t make with the world destroying anymore? I know I don’t know everything about me—I mean that’s why I’m here—but I’ve always thought I’m pretty good, generally, at the whole knowing what’s going on in my head thing. I just…what’s going on changes. A lot. That’s where I’m confused.” These are the kinds of secrets she can’t afford to hide, here. It’s funny, the things she shares that she might not elsewhere, and the tiny things she keeps to herself—her fear of frogs (thankfully not snakes), her memory of the day Tara brought home Miss Kitty Fantastico, Xander’s yellow crayon story.

Aluwyn says nothing, so Willow kisses her. Conversations are less linear here. They have found themselves in this same mossy forest clearing countless times already, but Willow knows they aren’t walking in circles. She can only hope she’s planted a seed that will grow into an explanation later. Aluwyn’s lips are cold, but it doesn’t feel strange, or maybe so much feels strange here that Willow’s becoming a poor judge.

Without breaking the kiss, Willow slides her hands up Aluwyn’s front and under her curtain of hair to cup the goddess’s full breasts in her hands. Even Aluwyn’s top half, which Willow had expected to feel human, is subtly scaly; it’s rough in a way that isn’t like her own calluses or birthmarks, and always slightly slick.

Willow pinches Aluwyn’s nipples and feels the goddess’s tail curling around them, pulling Willow into an embrace. Willow lowers her lips and laps at the hard nub of Aluwyn’s left breast. She tastes like salt and magic, and Willow sucks as much of her mysterious guide’s flesh into her mouth as she can. Above her, Aluwyn is breathing shallowly, and in a place where breath is, strictly speaking, unnecessary, Willow knows this means her ministrations are having the desired effect.

Against her leg, under her skirt, Willow can feel Aluwyn’s tail, the tip brushing lightly against her skin as Willow continues pulling at Aluwyn’s rough breast. She spreads her legs in encouragement and begins to slowly work her mouth down her lover’s body, kissing Aluwyn’s firm stomach. Her light touch tickles the goddess, who shrieks and giggles, writhing against the soft moss of the clearing, and Willow feels her arousal growing, slow and lazy like the lush heat of this dimension.

Aluwyn’s tail rubs against the cotton of Willow’s underwear (the most mystifying element of Willow’s wardrobe, according to Aluwyn) and Willow moans against the goddess’s belly. Willow pushes herself closer to Aluwyn’s touch, but her lover pulls away, giggling once again. Willow is beginning to feel a warm glow every time Aluwyn laughs, and a deep desire to make her laugh some more. She’s not the kind of guide Willow expected to encounter here, and Willow loves the reminder, in this place of constant mystical revelation, that magic can come from mirth and silliness, from teasing touches and games of hide and seek among the trees.

When Aluwyn brushes against her again and then pulls away once more, Willow lifts her head from Aluwyn’s skin. “Not fair,” she says, smiling.

Aluwyn grins and brushes against Willow again. “But you make such pretty sounds when I tease you, my Willow,” she says.

Willow does, she knows, and she comes so much harder afterwards, and it all sounds lovely and she wants it to happen right now. She kisses her lover once again, right where the skin of her belly meets the scales of her lower half. “As do you. If you stop, I’ll stop.” She runs her hand down Aluwyn’s side.

Aluwyn’s tail slips between Willow’s hip and the fabric of her panties and pulls them down and off her slim body. Willow can’t help but be impressed. It might be kind of neat to have a tail. But legs are nice too. Willow likes legs. She likes parting her thighs for her lover like this, gasping as Aluwyn brushes against her clit before teasing her labia.

Willow moves her head further downward, her tongue parting Aluwyn’s folds and finding the goddess’s cunt. _Cloaca_ , Willow remembers from biology, that’s the name for female snake genitals. She supposes she should ask Aluwyn which word she prefers. Aluwyn tastes different than Tara or Kennedy or Willow herself, which is all Willow has to compare her to so far, but her wetness has a recognizable tinge of sex to it, of animal want, and Willow loves the sour sweetness of it against her tongue.

Aluwyn moves the tip of her tail away from Willow's centre and down Willow’s thigh and Willow raises her head, staring in mock-sternness up the goddess’s body. “I know, I know,” Aluwyn giggles, and then the hard tip of the tail is brushing against Willow’s entrance and Willow can’t help but moan. This is exactly the kind of weird sex story Kennedy would want to hear, if it weren’t for the part where Willow is not supposed to be acquiring any non-Kennedy-related weird sex stories right now. Willow isn’t sure she likes how easily she brushes that thought away, but her tongue is back at Aluwyn’s hard clit and Aluwyn’s tail is pushing slowly inside her and her mind is re-entering babble mode because she can hardly believe how good this feels, the scaly texture against the softness of her insides, the slick juices of her lover coating her chin.

Neither of them are teasing now—neither can afford to risk even a moment’s lost sensation. Willow straddles Aluwyn and grinds her clit against her lover’s scales as the goddess continues to fill her. She feels Aluwyn’s hand tangling lightly in her hair, and she moans at the contact, burying herself deeper in Aluwyn’s whatever-she-calls-it, lapping steadily and firmly, enjoying Aluwyn’s whimpers of pleasure.

They come almost simultaneously, which feels like magic in and of itself, some spell of synchronicity hovering about them as they both cry out, Willow’s sounds muffled against Aluwyn’s quivering flesh. Willow slithers up Aluwyn’s body, and when she touches her wet lips to Aluwyn’s, both of them giggle at the contact, collapsing onto the moss in a fit of laughter.

For the first time so far, Willow feels no need to ask about her eyes, her hair, the veins of her face. Whatever this thing between them is now, it’s something less than trust but more than lies.

After a moment, Willow says, “What you said before, about my not being very good at knowing myself—that wasn’t a trick.” Another not-question. Not-questions really do seem to have a better track record here.

Aluwyn runs her fingers through Willow’s hair. “You have quite the capacity for self-deception, my Willow. You see my lies—or, you see some of them—but you don’t always see your own.”

This quest is becoming more complicated by the minute, Willow thinks ruefully. Thankfully she’s found a guide she’s in no danger of losing interest in anytime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you know that snakes have two penises? I learned more than I needed to about the snake reproductive system while writing this.


End file.
